


Berries & Mint

by jvo_taiski



Series: PJO one-shot collection [5]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Against a Wall, Angst, F/F, Girls Kissing, Hook-Up, Low-key, War, implied infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:26:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26782108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jvo_taiski/pseuds/jvo_taiski
Summary: She tastes like berries and mint against her mouth and Reyna takes it all; she kisses like a woman starving. And from the way Annabeth’s sighing and grasping her face with calloused fingers, she’s just as desperate.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano
Series: PJO one-shot collection [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1876507
Comments: 3
Kudos: 67





	Berries & Mint

She tastes like berries and mint against her mouth and Reyna takes it all; she kisses like a woman starving. And from the way Annabeth’s sighing and grasping her face with slim fingers, calloused from hours of wielding a dagger, she’s just as desperate.

Percy is just next door, so is Jason—they could walk in at any second but Reyna can’t bring herself to care. It’s wrong. It’s so depraved that she stills, but then Annabeth’s teeth graze her bottom lip and Reyna lets out a low moan and slides her hands lower down Annabeth’s waist. They fit perfectly in her hip dips, fingers splaying around to grip the sides of her ass, but they don’t stay there long. It hurts a little, knowing that even though she’s touching now, she’s touching someone that isn’t hers. But she has the fleeting moment in her hands right now and she’ll be damned if she lets it get away from her.

Annabeth exhales sharply when Reyna’s hand snakes under the line of her shorts, skimming the edge of her panties _(they’re lacy—Reyna wonders what colour they are. She’ll probably never know)_ and her breath smells faintly of her strawberry lip balm and spearmint chewing gum. One hand teases the thin edge of lace and the other splays out on Annabeth’s stomach, flat from hours of training, to hold her in place, maybe keep her up. She’s not sure whose breaths and who’s anymore, not when Annabeth’s mouth is still so close and her fingers are clutching her shoulders like a lifeline when Reyna finally quits teasing and slides her hand slides past pubic hair and lower.

Maybe she’s stealing the air straight from Reyna’s lungs, she thinks distantly, from somewhere behind the cloud of lust that’s settled in her mind. Their foreheads are pressed together, sweaty but no matter, and Annabeth’s blonde eyelashes are fluttering against her cheekbones as she sucks in gulps of Reyna’s oxygen and trembles like a flower in rain.

Reyna doesn’t care if she looks dark and fierce and a little desperate when Annabeth opens her eyes again—she knows Annabeth’s too far gone to rethink what they’re doing and she’s exactly where Reyna’s always wanted her. Maybe afterwards the feelings of shame and guilt will come flooding in like a dam collapsing but right now, Annabeth is coming apart in Reyna’s hands and she’s gazing at her like she’s floating, slack-jawed like Reyna’s the only one holding her from being swept away by the tide.

It won’t affect their friendship. Probably not anyway. They’ve both learned that a demigod life is too short to care about consequences, too fickle not to grab every opportunity and every little sliver of a thing that makes a heartbeat faster, makes blood sing in volatile veins and makes one feel so alive in the moment even if they might die today. So Reyna slides one hand up Annabeth’s shirt to massage her nipple and draw out a low groan that sends tingles racing down her spine.

Grey eyes meet glittering obsidian again, as Reyna slips her fingers out and sucks on them, tasting the wetness there, slightly salty from sweat, and whispers _look at me_ when those pale lashes nearly flutter shut again. Somehow, it makes it better and worse. Because this isn’t something they can forget about in the dark anymore _(maybe it never was)_ and maybe Reyna will never be able to look at her without dragging up aching memories of strawberry lip gloss and desperate, fleeting touches in half-light, but in the moment, it’s perfect, it’s raw, it’s intense and everything they need it to be, even if they both die tomorrow.

Reyna curses when a lean-muscled thigh drags up between her legs and increases the speed of her fingers, teasing, probing, sliding in and roughly kneading her clit. All she can hear is the rustle of clothes and muffled panting and gasping and the blood rushing through her head—Annabeth is trembling now, but she doesn’t take her eyes away from Reyna. The grey seems infinite, like it’s drawing her in slowly. She doesn’t ever want to climb out.

She whispers her name like a woman dying; like a final plea for mercy. Then she’s coming, writhing in Reyna’s arms, struggling to keep her little whimpers safe in her throat where they can’t escape, to hide them from Reyna, from the gods, from herself. Her eyes are still wide-open and glassy as she rides her orgasm and Reyna leans in again, kissing and taking all she can before it’s gone from her.

But like all good things, it’s over and the stolen moment slips away again. Annabeth reaches forwards, mouth still hot and wet just fluttering over Reyna’s own, maybe she would have returned the favour—

And then there’s a voice outside the door, and a strained laugh, and then Annabeth’s sitting back at the desk over a map in the dim light, like nothing’s happened at all, and Percy’s in the doorway and Reyna’s left to wipe away any last signs on a tissue which she crumples in her pocket and throws away later.

It’s done and gone, but Reyna’s mouth still tastes like strawberries.


End file.
